


In the Aftermath

by FNDocMainWrites



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Nothing explicit, Suggestive Themes, drunk Ghost is a flirty Ghost, just a little bit, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 10:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24349348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FNDocMainWrites/pseuds/FNDocMainWrites
Summary: In the aftermath of Ghost waking up from his self-inflicted nightmare, he wakes up to a better world.*set after the events of Loose Ends Finish With Established Beginnings*
Relationships: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Gary "Roach" Sanderson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	In the Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm back! I didn't really expect quarantine to happen, so school has been a bit tough trying to catch up and whatnot, but I'm back with some Ghost/Roach. Like the summary says, this takes place after my last posted fic, so read that first if you want. I'm still fairly new to Ao3 so, I'll get this writing and posting thing down eventually... :)

“So you’re tellin’ me, you muppets finally stopped dancin’ around each other like prideful birds?” John “Soap” MacTavish stared at his subordinates with a hardened yet relieved expression. The weariness yet characteristically alert expression he always wore had quickly dissipated the moment he noticed Gary “Roach” Sanderson and Simon “Ghost” Riley entering his “office” with prideful looks.

The office wasn’t really an office, as it was barely able to support the presence of three people without having to squeeze close (not that it bothered Roach nor Ghost). Soap instead found use in having some decent privacy that wasn’t his own private quarters to do whatever it is he did down here. Its relatively secluded area that faced away from the main hallways served to be quite useful that Ghost wouldn’t be surprised if Soap had done something scandalous without being caught once. Not many people, aside from them, Gaz, and Price knew where Soap’s “office” actually was. Gaz would’ve probably wagered that no one even knew it  _ existed. _

“That’s right. Heard ya were agonizin’ over it with Price for a while,” Ghost responded, “were ya hopin’ to get your share?”

Soap narrowed his eyes, “I would rather not know what it is you two get up to behind closed doors.”

“Big talk for someone who has an  _ office  _ small enough to get your rocks off without being noticed,” Ghost snarkily stated, noting the flicker in the Scotsman’s intense blue eyes.

“Watch yer mouth, Ghost. Don’t forget who yer talkin’ to,” Soap warned, but his eyes were lingering with amusement. “You’ve got a real handful, Roach. Better keep yer eye out on this one.”

Roach grinned and flashed a thumbs up as Ghost tugged on his other hand.

“Well, Gary and I will be findin’ a different spot to have some fun. Feel free to join if ya like,” Ghost teased, ducking as a pen flew past his head. Roach’s cheeks blushed a light shade of pink.

“One last thing,” Soap called after, leaning out of the doorframe, “You two will be assigned to an operation in South America, I expect top performance. You know where to be in two hours.”

“No problem, Captain,” Ghost responded, playfully saluting the Scotsman as he turned the corner. He quietly laughed to himself as he caught wind of the man mumbling to himself about the seclusive location of his office.

“We’re not really getting ‘our rocks off’ are we?” Roach questioned once they were out of earshot.

Ghost slyly grinned, “if ya want us to.”

~~~~

If slogging around through murky, shallow, and muddy rivers in the middle of South America was the slightest bit romantic, Ghost would have considered it an away-from-home date with Roach. Sure, he felt a twinge of nervousness deep within him since it was just the two of them assigned to do the bloody handiwork, but knowing that the younger operator was wading through just behind him at an equally slow pace left a sense of ease. He’d just started to open his eyes after all, this was merely a test to see if he saw anything. If he tilted his head a certain way, he could make out his reflection on the top of the water, an impressive feat for the raging rain pouring down on them without mercy. Search beacons scanned the river just several meters in front of them, the high beams almost blinding against the sharp waves.

“Comin’ up on the outpost, watch your fire Roach. Don’t wanna attract any unnecessary attention,” Ghost whispered, ducking under a nearby wooden dock, “get under the other dock and wait for my signal. I see two patrols comin’ up.”

Swimming in South America wasn’t what Ghost had in mind after months of recovery, both mentally and physically. It was hard work, and required at least two showers to get back to a presentable state; and that was just cleaning off his own body. But if he were honest, he’d wade through muddy rivers choked up with dozens of corpses left to rot away any day than freeze his ass off in Russian winter. The last time he did so had him shouting about a rogue missile that ended up being a false alarm. And if  _ that  _ didn’t sound odd enough.

The two patrols diverted, both stepping onto the respective docks that Roach and Ghost were using as cover. Just as the Brit had hoped and predicted. It would be another thirty seconds before the search beacons would make another round. A pair of boots tapped closer before stopping right above him, just where he needed him. Flashing a glance at Roach and nodding, Ghost grabbed a hold of the dock with one hand, and yanked the patrol with his other. Had the rain not been slamming down on them with the force of soft bullets, the splash would have likely alerted anyone else nearby. Quickly reaching for his knife, the blue eyed operator disarmed and stabbed the man, notably bearing the Shadow Company insignia. Stealing a quick glance over at Roach, he was already in the process of pulling the body deeper into the sea of dead bodies. 

_ Smart,  _ Ghost thought.  _ Looks like he’s one step ahead of me this time. _

__ He dragged the lifeless body into the water, motioning Roach to press forward.

“Looks like a real ghost town out there,” Soap murmured, his voice coming to life in their ears. “Makes me wonder why they’re tryin’ so hard to cover all this shite up. Just about everyone and their mother knows what’s wrong with em’.”

“Maybe they just want to remember what they stand for. Either way, people died for it,” Ghost answered, stopping in front of an uncaged sewer pipe; just big enough for a person to wade through. He nodded at Roach before taking point. 

“Enterin’ through the east side,” Ghost announced, the sloshing noises of water soaked its way through his trousers. He mused to himself that it’d take many showers to feel decent again.

“Yer comin’ up on the barracks. Try not to sleep with the fishes.”

“Tch, cheeky bastard,” He muttered. The quiet murmurs of patrols echoed not far down and gave no indication of fading off into the distance. He shot a meaningful glance at Roach, flicking his head forward.

“Might get a little messy down there, dependin’ on how this goes we might end up comin’ back here.”

The Sergeant nodded, instinctively moving to the opposite side of the pipe. They’d done this kind of tag team work hundreds of times that Ghost could have told anyone the specific date and place he did this or that. He wouldn’t doubt that the Sergeant could have done the same. 

As they came up to the end of the tunnel, Ghost cautiously poked towards his right, glancing at two shadowy figures veiled under the dark screen of the stone cold fortress wall. Tearing his eyes away to the left, the lights of a nearby beacon drove by, glistening against the rain slicked foundation. Just directly in front of him was an unoccupied tent.

“On my mark, we’re gonna run to the tent,” Ghost called, “there’s two on the far right side under the shadows, ya see em’?”

Roach took a quick glance before nodding.

They waited for several seconds before the crash of thunder roared in their ears.

“Go!” Hoisting himself over the concrete platform, Ghost dashed under the guise of the pounding raindrops and roaring thunder. Roach quickly followed, instinctively positioning himself near the opened flaps of the tent. Crates of ammunition sat inside, each plundered from and left open.

“Messy bastards,” Ghost muttered. He gazed into the next tent, noticeably occupied with sleeping individuals. On either side were two members of Shadow Company, standing idly with their backs facing him.

“Cornered on both sides, but they’re not lookin’ towards us. Tent’s occupied, stay frosty as the Yanks say, yeah?” 

Roach flashed a thumbs up, and Ghost could see the gentle grin behind his balaclava.

~~~

“Ouch, damn it Gary, that shit stings,” Ghost grunted, instinctively pulling his head away as Roach dabbled disinfectant against the cut on his cheek. It wasn’t deep, but the younger operator always fussed about any type of wound on Ghost. But it was nice to have someone care about you, he reasoned. He’d forever be eternally grateful for the world blessing him with such a wonderful presence.

Roach frowned, pulling him back in by the collar of his undershirt. He hummed to himself quietly as he applied a bandage to the wound. He grinned earnestly, patting his shoulder.

“Where’s my ‘don’t get hurt again’ kiss?” Ghost teased, leaning forward.

“Shower first, you’re disgusting,” Roach responded, playfully sticking out his tongue.

“Damn clean freak. When we get out I’m for damn sure gettin’ that kiss Roachy!”

The moment Ghost had been reminded about showering in that moment, he nearly forgot about the paperwork and interrogation from his superior creeping upon him. The steaming water falling onto his shoulders had never felt more pleasant as he stretched lazily under the heat. Wisps of steam wafted out from the stall as he hummed to himself. But  _ god  _ he felt disgusting. When they were extracted wet mud clung to his soaked uniform, he could practically still  _ feel  _ the sewage water sloshing against his legs. But the second they had completed their mission, it was like he let out a breath he’d been holding back for so long. There was nothing to worry about, he could sleep a little better knowing that his trust was returning to him.

The moment he finished Ghost could quickly and eagerly admit he felt like a new man, ready to take on another day of routine before quietly grumbling about it to Roach later. Clouds of steam still rolled through the heavy air, creating a thin layer of perspiration against his pale skin as he dried himself. The spraying water in Roach’s own stall shut off, leaving a wave of white noise in its stead. He craned his head to look at the younger operator and smirked. 

“Nice arse ya got there, Gary,” he teased, smacking his posterior. Roach squeaked, body jerking away as his face flushed pink. The blond laughed, grabbing for his spare towel. As he dried his wet hair he began to muse the next set of friendly banter Soap and Price would share as soon as they stepped into the canteen. The two had gotten along quite well that Ghost had found his own amusement at telling them to get a room. (And yeah, he considered telling them to get into Soap’s office once or twice).

_ “Bloody Christ!”  _ He gasped out as he felt a hand smack him from behind. “You cheeky wanker!”

Roach chuckled, grinning deviously as he passed him.

“Guess I won’t just be gettin’ my kiss eh? Looks like ya want a little more…” Ghost drawled, pulling him in by the waist. The similar expression on the younger operator’s face didn’t betray anything as the Brit could feel the deepest traces of want spreading through him.

He nibbled on his ear, “I could go for more of ya too.”

Breathlessly, Roach closed his eyes.

_ ~~~~ _

“Christ, yer late,” Soap stated as Ghost and Roach entered the canteen, “what could you two possibly have been doin?”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to know what we get up to behind closed doors,” Ghost responded, taking his usual seat next to Gaz who regarded him with a simple nod.

Soap eyed him with suspicion before glancing at Roach, who bore a soft shade of pink on his ears. A soft bruise bloomed on his skin, just barely hidden by his top.

“Right. Nevermind that. Good work out there. I’d talk more about what’s important, but Nikolai convinced me to not think about it.”

Roach raised an eyebrow.

“Haven’t had a drink in God knows how long,” the Scotsman responded, “if it weren’t for Nikolai bailin’ our asses out, I would have gone mad.”

The moment he had finished his sentence, Price and Nikolai walked in, carrying bottles and crates of alcohol, both wearing expressions of contentedness-although Price could have very well looked as if he were ready to murder someone.

“About damn time, they’ve been gone for twenty minutes lookin’ for the damn things,” Gaz mused. 

Ghost snaked an arm around Roach’s waist and squeezed it gently.

“Ya want in on this one, love?”

The brunet smiled, shaking his head as he returned the gesture.

“You’re missing out on the fun,” Nikolai said, chuckling as he handed Ghost a shot glass filled to the brim.

“Nah, he knows how to have a good time without gettin’ pissfaced drunk. Cheers mate,” Ghost raised his glass, clinking it with the rest of the participants before tipping his own to his lips. His throat burned as the liquid slipped down, regarding it with a grunt as he slammed his glass on the table.

“Gonna be a long night with all this alcohol around,” Soap stated, popping the lid to a bottle and taking a long drink from its contents. His posture had relaxed, taking in the strong potency of the alcohol.

Gaz grinned, “too right, mate.”

_ ~~~~ _

“You’ll be alright carryin’ him back on your own?” Price regarded Roach with a short glance as he hoisted Gaz’s arm over his shoulders. 

He nodded, striking a quick gaze at Soap, who appeared equally as drunk yet just marginally more capable of walking on his own. His cheeks were flushed a gentle shade of red while his eyes were trained on the tiled floor. Roach would have laughed at the sight in any other scenario, but all he really wanted was to feel his head hit the nearest pillow. Nikolai had gone off to go drink the rest of the night with other Loyalists, just after affirming that the 141 was capable of drunkenly stumbling back to their rooms without needing help. Roach had felt bad for letting Price drag Gaz and Soap back to their own quarters on his own, but the Brit seemed to wave away his concerns.

“See you in tha’ mornin’ then.” With a short wave the trio stumbled through the dimmed hallways, their hoarse voices echoing and bouncing against the sterile walls.

He turned his head to look at Ghost, who’s arms remained anchored around his waist. Most of his weight leaned on Roach, adding a slight awkward angle to their stances as they attempted to turn around in a coordinated fashion.

Blue eyes glanced up at the younger operator, studying him with drunken interest. 

“Wow…” he muttered. “Are ya single?”

Roach blinked, staring back with a quizzical expression as he managed to make impressive progress to their shared quarters.

“No?”

“Yer not?” Ghost’s face turned disappointed as he mumbled something incoherent to himself. 

“I’m your boyfriend, Simon,” he chuckled, stopping in front of their room. Plunging his hand into his side, he fished the key from his pockets as Ghost gasped at this information.

“My boyfriend?” 

“Forever ago,” Roach hummed, kicking off his boots. He gently shrugged off the Brit’s arms, moving away to pull off his jacket. A drunk Simon was usually different from a sober Simon. His usual serious demeanor slipped away completely, turned mischievous and boisterous. Roach would have found this change in behavior mildly concerning if the older operator didn’t try to drunkenly impress him in nearly all cases. He laughed to himself quietly as he recalled the times Ghost had tried to flirt with him while drunk out of his mind. For being such a private operator, he knew how to climb his way straight into Roach’s heart.

Ghost squeezed him from behind, earning a surprised squeak as he held him in a tight embrace.

“I ‘ave a boyfriend? And it’s tha’ hottest man I’ve ever seen? I must be… tha’ luckiest man alive,” he slurred, sighing pleasantly. Roach blushed, squirming out of his grip.

“Flattering,” he said, grinning. “Take your shoes off, Simon.”

“Are ya sure I can’t just… admire ya for a little longer?” 

“My hips are sore, I’d like to lie down,” he replied.

“Yer hips are sore? Some bloody muppet attack you? Who are they? I’ll-I’ll-”

“I’m fine,” Gary stated, pinching the older operator’s cheeks. It was something that he wasn’t usually allowed to do, as it always made Ghost blush a deep red, followed with a, “I have a reputation to uphold!” in a joking manner. His cheeks this time were already flushed red, and it simply gave the impression that he’d been sitting out in the cold for too long. 

“Fine,” Ghost mumbled. “But if you get attacked, let me know and I’ll give them a bollocking worse than-than what Price gives!”

The brunet exhaled with amusement, gently tugging him towards his bed. Tonight was a relatively warm night, much to Roach’s delight. He tugged off his shirt, tossing it onto the floor without a care. Turning around he watched as Ghost struggled to unzip his jacket, prompting Roach to help him undress followed by innocent flirtatious comments belted out by the blond. 

They both settled into bed, earning a satisfied sigh as all the tension released itself from Roach’s shoulders.

“Mm… Ya feel really nice back ‘ere, Gary…” Ghost snuggled closer, arms encircling around his waist. And if Roach was honest, it was  _ way  _ too hot for him to sleep comfortably like this, which was saying a lot since it was him who usually pressed himself as closely to Ghost as possible.

Instead he blushed, recalling their intimate moment in the shower room hours earlier. The marks were still all over his collarbone.

“Did I tell ya how much I love it when yer body cuddles close to mine? It’s like I ‘ave the best cuddle partner…I should do the same, yer really warm here.”

And Roach just sighs exasperatedly. 


End file.
